


Hopeless Wanderer

by stygianalpha



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fluff, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stygianalpha/pseuds/stygianalpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>// just you, me, and the moon //</p><p>Locus dates a werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don't hold a glass over the flame

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a oneshot but when you've already got 15 pages and are well aware that its not even half of what you want to include, well...
> 
> it features romantic lolix, btw

He had only been seeing Felix for a short while, just over a couple of months. It was a casual affair that neither of them would attach a label to; they would meet at least twice a week, dates that they never called dates. Each time, Locus was sure to say goodbye with a kiss, a practice that had ended on several occasions with him being pulled into Felix’s apartment and leaving much later. But it was casual still, and today he was hoping to change that. Today, Locus was meeting Felix for a late lunch - for him, anyway. It was nearing three, and Locus was waiting patiently at a steakhouse of Felix’s choosing. The waiting was a common thing, but the longer he sat there the tighter his nerves were wound.

This was how it was, though. Locus arrived early to any lunch or dinner dates they set and he picked where they sat. After a few minutes, Felix would be sliding into the seat across from him. Locus assured himself that once he had Felix in front of him this would be easier.

Except once he spotted Felix heading his way, he knew that was wrong. He had turned this decision over in his mind for days, and had dealt with the worry that Felix would reject it. There was this one last chance to never mention it, but that wouldn’t possible. Once he accepted it, he could never forget it. To Locus, this - whatever he had with Felix - it wasn’t some casual fling. It never would be.

Felix took his seat, reaching across to take Locus’s drink. He smiled, said, “Hope I’m not too late,” and only drank when Locus said that no, of course he wasn’t.

He considered starting conversation with his desire for their relationship to be just that - an official relationship, no more of this dancing around the topic.

But Felix had been there for not even five minutes. Bombarding him with it so soon would be rude, Locus was sure of that. Instead, he turned the conversation to Felix, asking how his day had been - work, primarily. He knew Felix had only been awake for two hours at the most.

Felix rolled his eyes, sighing. “Dumbass coworker,” he said, “has been accusing me of theft.” He paused to order a coffee as the waitress came by, and then explained to Locus, in great detail, about what this coworker was blaming on him. Apparently, this coworker said that various things had gone missing, small things that the night watch would have access to, and the only person that could be responsible for it was Felix. During his story,  the waitress returned with his coffee and he stirred sugar into it, frowning deeply. “Which is bullshit, by the way,” he said. “I don’t want a goddamn thing from that place. Watching it for eight hours a night is enough punishment.”

“Have you told your boss?”

Felix grumbled something Locus couldn’t quite catch. Something about paperwork, maybe? “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Nothing’s gonna happen. This guy’s been talkin’ shit for weeks.”

The conversation changed then, spun in a different direction by a smooth remark from Felix. He mentioned how he had tickets for a show next weekend, in a city a couple of hours away. Prize from a contest, he said, and Locus didn’t bother to ask if that was true or not. Didn’t think he particularly cared at this point. Right now, he was more preoccupied by the nest of nerves in his gut. It was a good thing that their dates usually comprised of Felix doing most of the talking because Locus was currently just staring, feeling his heart pound against his ribs, and waiting for the best moment.

In the dim light of the steakhouse, with the blinds and the tinted windows shielding them from most of the light, Felix was the brightest thing there. He glowed - with exuberance and energy, wide grins and pointed teeth. His pale skin caught the light and shone, and the darkness of his hair and eyes offset that perfectly. He leaned forward, sliding his fingers over Locus’s hand, and his eyes sparked. “What’re you so silent for?” he asked quietly. “Usually by now you’ve at least said something.”

Caught on the spot, Locus said the first thing he thought of: “You’re beautiful.”

Felix blinked, and then smiled. A playful laugh spilled from his lips as he leaned back. “Well,” he said with a shrug, “ah… thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Locus didn’t know what to say next, other than the only thing he had to say, and he was saved from blurting it out by the waitress coming back with their food. Before Felix had arrived, Locus had taken the liberty of ordering for them both. Each of them had steaks, though Felix’s was larger and rare to Locus’s medium.

This was good. Eating was a good buffer, a good thing to have waited for. He held a casual conversation as they ate, talked of movies they had seen and how Felix was irritated by the tracks his favorite TV show was taking. It was easy, steady conversation. Until Felix turned it onto him, asking if he had anything interesting going on.

There was only one interesting thing in his life. At least, only one thing that would keep Felix’s attention. Having a job that dealt with numbers and tiring people was never going to hold Felix, and Locus knew that. He looked from Felix to the half-eaten steak on his own plate, gripping the fork he held tightly. The anxiety he had been holding back was roaring, but this was too good an opportunity to ignore.

Locus sighed, and when he spoke it was quiet. “I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something.” Across the table, Felix had leaned forward again, his interest perked. “Well - tell you something, would be better. Both, possibly. Tell you something, then ask.”

Good. Off to a fantastic start.

A smile was creeping across Felix’s face, and he eased his hand into Locus’s. Squeezed once. “Go on,” he said, voice smooth. And amused, a fair hint of amusement there, and Locus couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t exactly being very clear.

It was more difficult than he’d thought it would be. Once Felix was watching him, waiting, the words he had planned to say tangled up in one another and died. Instead of the calm, well-spoken confession he had run through in his mind, Locus ended up saying, “What we’re doing isn’t working.”

Instantly, the smile fell from Felix’s face.

“Not because it’s bad,” Locus said hurriedly. He grasped Felix’s hand in his, watching the other tilt his head. “It’s not - it really isn’t, but it isn’t… enough.”

Felix was sitting still, all traces of amusement gone. He was watching Locus in silence, and Locus was sure he had ruined this before it had even gone anywhere.

Locus said, “I like you, Felix,” and could feel the flush threatening to burn through his skin. He had to force his words to be clear, make up for how badly he had started. “I like you more than I intended, and I can’t do this with you anymore. Not like we are.”

Felix was pulling his hand away, gaze falling from Locus to the table.

“Even if you don’t want to,” Locus continued, “I thought I should ask you anyway. Could we make this official, Felix?”

He was silent for a few long, heavy seconds, but then Felix looked back at him. “You want to be my boyfriend,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question, and Locus merely nodded. The look in Felix’s eyes was calculated, as if he was trying not to show anything. After another pause, he said, “I… Look, I have something I have to tell you first. Before you actually decide this is what you want.”

He already had decided. But he found himself agreeing anyway. “Whatever you want to say, you can.”

It wasn’t a refusal, an outright denial of Locus’s feelings. Not as good as it could have been, but much better than he had expected.

Felix shook his head. “No, look, not here, okay? Somewhere - fuck, man. We gotta be alone.” He paused, looking away from Locus to prod at what remained of his steak with one finger. “It’s serious,” he said. “And you shouldn’t make up your mind until you know.”

Locus was curious, naturally. And very tempted to push Felix to talk now, but if this was as serious as Felix said, he’d wait. The easy flow of conversation they had had vanished, the air between them filled instead with an awkward tension. They finished the meal in a silence rarely broken, and Felix turned down dessert in favor of the check.

When they left, Felix was two steps in front of him, and went straight to Locus’s car.

“Did you not drive?” Locus asked, pausing with the keys in one hand.

Felix shrugged. “Bus seemed easier.” He slid into Locus’s car as soon as it was open. As Locus started the car, he said, “My place,” and fell silent again.

The drive was worse than sitting through the end of lunch. The silence was stronger in the smaller space, with only the radio to drift between them. Locus snuck glances at Felix while he drove, but Felix merely sat there, gazing out the window. He was fidgeting with the edge of his shirt, but not saying anything. It was strange to see him so quiet. He had hardly stop talking once since Locus had met him - and even when he wasn’t talking, he was noisy in other ways.

Whatever he had to say, it must be weighing heavily on him.

Felix’s apartment was located in a suburban part of the city, where trees had been left to shade the entire place. It was a small complex surrounded by houses, a two-story building that rested at the crest of a hill. Felix stayed in the furthest apartment, one that came complete with a basement. Locus parked his car in front of the locked basement door - a chain was wound tightly around the door’s handles, padlocked; Locus wasn’t even sure if it could be opened. Layers of old fallen leaves swamped the stairs down to it. Felix headed around the corner to the apartment’s front door, glancing behind him to make sure Locus was following.

There wasn’t even a spark of noise from any neighbors as Felix unlocked his door, just the singing of birds in the trees high above. Felix nodded for him to enter first, and once the door was shut behind them, he finally spoke again.

“Sorry for the, uh… the mess,” he said lamely, shrugging.

Locus glanced over Felix’s apartment, frowning. Clothes were strung over the couch, dishes sitting on the floor and his work uniform was laid on top of the kitchen table. The mess hardly bothered him, not right now. “It’s fine,” he said. He stood at the edge of Felix’s living room, watching as the other man walked to where his uniform was to pick it up. “What did you want to tell me?”

Felix laughed - short, humorless. “Right, yeah. Just give me a minute, okay?” He turned to face Locus, uniform in his handss, and offered a smile. “Gonna get some things out of the way so we can at least sit down.” He didn’t given Locus a chance to answer, taking the uniform away and picking up more loose clothes before he headed to the bedroom.

The living room was still a mess, so Locus sat down at the table instead, folding his hands in front of him and trying to ignore how nervous this was making him. Felix came back, pulled a drink from the fridge and then brought Locus one even when he said he didn’t need one. It was soda, cold and sweet, and Locus took a sip while Felix gulped it down.

Then, with the drink in front of him, Felix took a deep breath and looked Locus in the eyes.

He said, “I’m a monster, Locus.”

A beat of silence. Locus was frowning again, about to respond.

Felix threw up a hand before he could, effectively silencing him. “No, look - I spent the whole ride here trying to think about how to say this, and it’s just easiest this way. I’m a monster.” He was smiling, maybe trying to look relaxed, but it wasn’t working. There was anxiety in Felix, in the tense way he held his shoulders.

A few seconds passed before Locus was sure Felix wasn’t going to continue. “What exactly do you mean?” He could almost feel the anxiety pouring off of Felix at his words.

“Well, y’see…. I am, uh…” He paused, looking somewhere to the left of Locus. “I am a werewolf,” he said, slowly, deliberately. “A monster. Yeah.”

If things between them had felt awkward before, it had tripled instantly. As much as Locus wished he knew what to say, he didn’t. Not to that. It was clear that Felix wanted him to say something, but all Locus could think was that Felix didn’t look at all like a werewolf. Or the pictures of werewolves that had been plastered everywhere.

Locus said, “You’re… a what?”

“A werewolf.”

Everything said that werewolves were dangerous, bloodthirsty creatures. But Felix was looking at him now in a way that was almost vulnerable.

He kept talking, spreading his hands flat over the table and avoiding Locus’s eye. “It’s alright if you want to leave. It’s kind of why I had us come here, right? So if you wanted to leave, you could.” His eyes snapped up to Locus and there was definitely a touch of vulnerability there, hidden quickly. “I know people hate werewolves. Trust me, I know. So if you don’t want to deal with it, it’s okay.”

“Felix…”

“I won’t be too angry,” Felix said. “You can leave and we never have to see each other.”

Locus shook his head. “That won’t work,” he said. He had been prepared for Felix to turn him down, to not see him anymore because they wanted different things. But this? Unexpected, yes, but looking at Felix now, all Locus wanted to do was kiss him. “I like you too much.”

A smile was creeping across Felix’s face again, wry and sharp. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before, actually,” he said, “but sure. You like me.”

“I want to try this - “

“You don’t understand.” Felix was starting to sound angry, smile disappearing as he leaned close. He held the can of soda tightly in one hand. “This isn’t some little thing you can work around, okay? I’m a fucking werewolf!”

“Lycanthropy is a serious condition,” Locus said. “I know that. But I like you, Felix, and this condition of yours isn’t changing that.”

Felix snorted, rolling his eyes. “Condition,” he repeated. “Are you serious?”

“It’s a medical condition.”

“I turn into a howling asshole,” Felix said. “That’s not a condition.”

Locus could recall all these facts he had learned about werewolves during his life. Things about how difficult it was to live with lycanthropy, how the change was uncontrollable, how werewolves had very little options available to help them live with the affliction. He wasn’t going to say any of it, and couldn’t think of anything else.

Eventually, it was like Felix deflated. The defiant anger he had left and he sighed, taking another drink from the can. “Alright,” he said. “I can try it, this stupid serious relationship you want.”

The surge of relief in Locus’s gut was enough to make him know that this werewolf condition was not going to get in the way of this. He reached for Felix’s free hand, squeezing it, running his thumb over Felix’s knuckles. “It’ll work,” he said. It would have to. “We’ll work.”

Felix huffed out a breath of laughter. “Right. Good confidence.” He was smiling again, a real one, not one of those strained faked expressions. “God, you made me want to drink and I have work tonight. Do you know how goddamn stressful it is to tell people this shit? And you just sit there and take it, not even a flinch. Y’know, people have just left before, like mid-conversation, there they go. But you? No, not you.”

Instead of answering, or letting Felix ramble, Locus stood and leaned across the table. He kissed Felix softly, muffling his next words and the quiet approving noise he made. This was his boyfriend: a noisy, talkative werewolf.

✶✶✶

Werewolves were everywhere, scattered across the globe. Most lived in groups that the media, and anyone who wished to be rude, referred to as packs. The werewolves in these groups hated the term, claimed that they sought company with people who understood what life with lycanthropy was like, and that there was no alpha-beta-omega dynamics. Werewolves were not wolves, did not live like wolves, and did not appreciate anyone who made jokes along those lines.

And then there were those like Felix. Loners that added to those jokes. And with rising frequency.

A few days after Locus had asked for a real relationship, Felix had said that he could ask questions about his life as a werewolf. “Only for a bit,” he said. They were sitting on Locus’s couch, Felix’s legs thrown over his lap. Felix wound an arm around his shoulders, scooting closer. “I know you’re curious, so, sure. Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

The first thing he found to say was, “Why are you alone?”

And Felix’s answer was, “I’m a lone wolf. Get it? Yeah?” He grinned as if this was the greatest thing anyone had ever said and only laughed when Locus fixed him an unamused stare.

Locus sighed. “Don’t you know any other werewolves?”

Still laughing, Felix shrugged. “Sure,” he said as the laughter calmed down. “They’re all assholes. Literally every other one I’ve met is a pretentious jackass. They keep giving me lectures about how humanity doesn’t trust us.” He slid his legs off Locus’s lap, straightened his back, and put on this grand air of superiority. “Humanity lets us down, treats us like animals, we have to stick together!” All the grandiose show eased out of him and he let out a huff of breath. “Pretentious jackasses.”

“So you prefer humans?”

“I prefer myself.” He paused, eyes skating over Locus’s body. “And the company of a distinct few.”

Locus was positive his inclusion was a last-second amendment, that Felix really did just prefer his own company. He said nothing, trying to think of anything else to ask - something that wouldn’t be insensitive and anger Felix.

In his silence, Felix continued talking. “I haven’t heard from the ones I know for a while,” he said. “Think they’ve finally given up. For a while there, they kept asking me join their pack.”

“I thought werewolves didn’t like the word pack,” Locus said. Continuing this topic was easier for now. The only other thing he could think of to ask was what it was like to change forms, and that seemed a bit too much so early in their relationship.

“See? Pretentious dickbags.” Felix smiled as if Locus had proven his point. “It’s a pack, okay? The guy that always bugs me, he calls these people his family. They live in some dumb house all together, help each other, blah blah. It’s all pretty fucking stupid.”  He seemed to run out of things to say then, moving closer again to lean against Locus. Once Locus had an arm around his waist, Felix relaxed against him with a sigh. “No more questions?” he asked quietly.

The change was still all he could think about. What must it be like to change into something deadly, something that people feared? He wondered how much it hurt - because it must hurt. Judging by completely transformed werewolves, it twisted their whole bodies into some disturbing combination of wolf and man.

He said, “Not right now.”

Felix hummed, twisting until he was pressed against Locus’s side. He rested his head on Locus’s shoulder and took a deep breath. A second later, his legs were once again across Locus’s lap.  It was a quiet moment, one that Locus spent running one hand lazily down Felix’s back. Despite how much he didn’t want to, he kept thinking of Felix changing, of the lean man in his arms becoming a beast.

After a few seconds, Felix said, “Kind of want to fuck you right now.”

“You are spectacular at ruining a moment,” Locus muttered.

The only answer he got was Felix shifting, quiet laughter, and a press of lips to his throat.

✶✶✶

A week passed with no problems. Essentially, everything was the same - they went out on dates (still not actually called dates), they spent time in each other’s apartments. In public, Felix would kiss him long enough that strangers would be uncomfortable; Locus preferred quieter shows of affection, like taking Felix’s hand in his or tugging him close around the waist. Felix texted him more often, if that counted as a change, and seemed to be favoring ‘babe’ as a general petname.

It was going well, Locus was sure of it. There was a constant curiosity plaguing him about Felix and lycanthropy, but as long as he held that back, made sure not to push Felix for answers to questions he wouldn’t ask, it would be fine.

He failed at keeping his curiosity at bay, and very quickly. Within the first four days, Locus had found and read anything that seemed reliable online about werewolves. He read about first-hand accounts of those who had witnessed a werewolf’s transformation, and then descriptions by werewolves of how painful it was - one said it felt like their body was snapping into pieces, another said it burnt like fire. Every one of these transforming accounts included how disorienting it was to be human again, to lose an entire evening and only feel the aches and pains of the change. The idea that this was happening to Felix was captivating. He started to keep a watch on the moon’s cycle, keeping track of the days until the full moon.

It was as if he was becoming obsessed.

The show Felix wanted to take him to was two days before the full moon, and Felix spent the afternoon before they left buzzing with high energy. He went on and on about how he had gotten tonight off - “I get the full moon off every month, right? And they don’t usually give me a night off before it, but they worked me nine days in a row so fuck them.” He gestured as he spoke, pacing around his apartment. Excitement was scrawled through his every movement, and all Locus could do was remember articles about werewolf behavior before the moon rose high.

The show itself started at eight which meant they left before six. Halfway there, Felix gave a sharp-toothed grin, eyes glinting in the quickly setting sun. Locus found his eyes drawn to Felix’s teeth- sharper than a human’s should be. Another useless fact from one of many articles he had read: werewolves had sharp, pointed incisors that grew into fangs during the transformation.

He really wished he could stop thinking so much about this one part of Felix. This was his boyfriend. He should have been enjoying himself.

At the very least, he could have enjoyed the show. It wasn’t really a surprise to him that Felix had gotten his hands on tickets for an outdoor concert. Or that the majority of drinks available were alcoholic and most of the food was greasy slop. He watched Felix down drinks and eat enough food for the both of them.

Felix enjoyed himself.

Locus watched him, thinking he glowed under the moonlight.

They didn’t leave until past midnight. Felix carried his last beer to the car, leaning against Locus as they walked. A smattering of voices and laughter followed them, car doors slamming shut sharp noises in the dark. As Locus unlocked the car, Felix said, “This was great.” A pause. “You’re great.”

Locus was tempted to excuse that on how much alcohol he’d had. The charming smile Felix was giving him helped convince him otherwise.

Felix took his seat in the car, carefully placing his drink in the cupholder. “Didn’t you have fun?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Locus answered. “Of course.”

It counted as fun if he had watched Felix, didn’t it? Even if he still couldn’t get his mind off the fact that Felix was a werewolf?

Beside him, Felix was practically beaming. The street they were driving down was shrouded by trees, moonlight peeking through. It threw the car into shadow. The dim light still managed to shine in Felix’s eyes.

That show, that date, it ended with Locus helping Felix to his bed and politely refusing to spend the night. When Felix kissed him goodbye, his sharp teeth pulled at Locus’s lip. Once he was home, Locus tried to sleep and failed, spending more time looking up information on werewolves.

The next evening, he met Felix for dinner. Nothing special - simple food, good conversation. On the way home, however, Locus’s burning curiosity finally spilled over. During a moment of silence on Felix’s end, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“I want to be there,” he said, “on the full moon.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Felix look his way, eyes wide and wary. “I want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need you there,” Felix said. “I’ve been like this for long enough. I can handle it, trust me.”

“I just want to - “

“I know what you want.” Felix’s words were sharp, and Locus quieted instantly. Chancing a look, Locus was met with a glare from Felix, his eyes guarded and dark in the low light. Faced with that look, Locus felt his skin crawling - it was like Felix knew what he was thinking. That it was clear what he really wanted here. “You can’t come.”

For a few seconds, Locus said nothing and felt an uncomfortable tension rising. Felix was still staring at him, and when Locus spoke again, it was quiet. “Felix, listen to me - “

Once again, Felix cut him off. “No.”

“Felix.”

“You’re not coming.” His voice was rising with each word, anger bubbling behind it in stark contrast to Locus’s calm. “I won’t let you.”

The quiet radio was the only noise then, stretching on. Too caught up on what to say, Locus stayed silent, adjusting his course to Felix’s apartment rather than his home. The comfortable air this night had had was gone entirely, and he knew without being told that Felix would want him to stay away for the rest of the night.

After a few minutes, Felix spoke again. He was calmer now, but that touch of anger was still there, lighting every word he spoke into flames. “You’re not the first one, y’know. Had a few failed relationships that never got off the ground because people can’t seem to pull past the monster thing. Remember how I told you one person just left in the middle of the conversation?” He paused - not for an answer, to take a breath before he continued. “Well, another one left in the middle of the night.

“It was the full moon, and he had asked to stay just like you are. I let him, thought if he got it out of his system, he’d shut the fuck up about it and we could move on. Really stupid idea, thinking someone could withstand that night and still look me in the eye.”

Locus glanced between Felix and the road as he spoke. A part of him was thankful Felix was telling him this, another just wished he wasn’t driving so he could ease the tension in Felix’s shoulders.

Felix said, “It’s not a pretty thing, having to sit there through it. I know it’s not. But this guy, he told me he’d be there in the morning, waiting. He said he wouldn’t leave no matter what happened, but then dawn came and when I finally got my ass up to go to him, he was gone.” He hesitated then, and Locus’s next look caught him pulling anxiously at the sleeve of his jacket. “It didn’t bother me. That idiot was always too hung up on good old monster Felix to give a fuck about anything else we did.”

There was a sour feeling to Felix’s words now, a lingering sense of hurt.

“He was a fucking asshole,” Felix said. “But I learned a lesson: Never let anyone stay for the full moon. You’re not coming over tomorrow, might not even see me. And it’s for the best, okay?”

Locus could feel the burden in those words, in the story. He wasn’t sure if Felix just needed to say it to someone or what, but he still felt the need to say something. “I would never do that to you.”

Felix gave a pained noise, almost a whine.

“I’ll always wait for you.”

Another noise, even closer to a whine. It was near animalistic.

Locus took the turn to Felix’s apartment complex, the trees overhead blocking out the moon. “I would stay awake the entire night,” he said. “No matter what happens, you can trust me on this. I will be there.”

“How can you even say that?” The car was parked outside of Felix’s apartment, but he wasn’t making a move to get out just yet.

He said, “Because I don’t want to hurt you,” and felt heat rushing to his face. It wasn’t what he had meant to say, and the startling reality of it was surprising.

Felix didn’t notice, and that was either due to the darkness or to how distracted he was at the moment. “Great, thanks for telling me. You’re still not going to be there.” He was out of the car before Locus could say anything else. The bright light flicking on caught Locus’s attention and he turned just in time to see the door slam shut. He watched Felix walk to his door through the headlights.

On his way home, Locus felt his heart pound in his chest. He had failed here, he was sure of it. There had to have been a better way to ask, a way to get Felix to understand how badly he needed to be there. It was to satisfy his own curiosity, yes, but he wanted to be there once Felix was himself again. The aftermath of the change had to be horrible - it sounded like it, at least - and if Locus could ease that for Felix, he would.

He would just have to get over there, somehow.

Locus expected to have to make plans to get into Felix’s apartment for the following night. He thought through the night about how he would do it - if talking would be enough, if he would have to force his way in, if there was some way he could convince Felix to let him inside. He fell asleep thinking about it, about Felix and the monster lurking beneath the surface.

When he woke, there was a text on his phone: _‘Come over before sunset.’_

Before he could stop himself, Locus had replied with, _‘What changed your mind?’_

It was hours before Felix got back to him, just after noon: _‘Shut the fuck up. You won.’_ After that, Felix wouldn’t reply and Locus could only go back to his work. As hard as it was to focus with this hanging over his head, he threw himself into it with the hope time would move faster.

If anything, it went slower. And even then, as five rolled around and he could leave, there was over an hour until sunset. He could just go straight to Felix’s place, but a part of him was worrying if he would show up too early. Instead, he went to his home, changed into clothes more comfortable to spend the night in, and went to eat a late dinner. After a slight hesitation, he picked up food for Felix as well.

When he arrived, it was as quiet as ever. No sounds of neighbors, just the distant sound of music from across the street. The sun was low in the sky as he knocked on the door, heard Felix’s muffled voice telling him to come in. Locus hesitated. There was a touch of anxiety twisting in his gut, enough to make him wonder if this really was such a good idea. It was brief, and Locus shook his head as if to get rid of it completely. It was too late to have such thoughts. He was already here, for one thing, and had asked Felix for this.

Standing there, he remembered what Felix had told him before, about one of his exes that had left in the middle of the night. Despite that experience, Felix had given Locus a chance to be here. And he couldn’t mess that up, couldn’t leave Felix to think he had fled from this - from the werewolf side of him. No matter how this would go, he had to stay. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then pushed the door open.

Felix was in the living room - he was the first thing Locus looked at. He sat on the edge of the couch, one leg bouncing, hands clasped between his knees. When he met Locus’s eyes, he said, “Took your fuckin’ time, didn’t you?”

Locus kept his face impassive. He didn’t want the anxiety to show.

Before he could speak, Felix had stood, eyes on the bag in his hands. “What’s that?”

“Food,” Locus said. He moved forward enough to set it down on the table, then looked back at Felix. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything, but I thought - “

“Ah, well…” Felix’s head was tilted just a bit, eyes glued to bag. “Maybe later. Can’t right now.” He paused, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. Even from where he stood, Locus was sure he could see the extra length to the incisor digging into Felix’s lip. Felix said, “In the morning, maybe. But thanks.”

It was then, on the tail end of Felix’s words, that Locus saw how tense he was, how Felix’s face was drawn and how clearly nervous he was. He frowned, a touch of his own anxiety showing for a moment, and walked to Felix. He wanted to say something, couldn’t figure out what, and settled instead for squeezing Felix’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss his forehead. This close, he could practically feel the waves of nervous energy coming off of Felix.

Felix said, “There’s some shit you gotta know.” He pulled away from Locus, one hand pulling nervously at the hem of his shirt. He met Locus’s eyes for a brief second, and then looked away, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “First: Don’t open the door. Ever.”

“Door?”

Felix stopped fussing with his shirt to point to the basement door. “That. Leave it closed, stay away from it. I’ll lock it from the inside, the stupid howling jackass is too dumb to open a lock so it’ll be fine.” HIs eyes flickered briefly, something like fear edging in. “I don’t care what you hear, don’t get close to the door.”

Locus could only nod.

“It’s just that I - “

Felix stopped short as an alarm cut through the air, shrill and beeping. He turned from Locus to reach for the couch, coming up with his phone. After a moment, his fingers flying over the screen, the alarm stopped.

“What was that?” Locus asked.

“Got twenty minutes until sunset,” Felix said quietly. For a moment, he didn’t move - and then he dropped the phone on the coffee table and shrugged his jacket off. It fell to the floor and Felix ignored it, sitting on the couch and pulling at his boots with impatience. He kept talking as he moved - “I can smell you through the door,” he said, “so I need you to stay back. Haven’t broken the door down yet, but I figure it could happen and I - I don’t want to hurt you, alright?”

He wasn’t looking at Locus, eyes on the floor as he stood again. He crossed the room quickly, reaching for a small table by the basement door. After a brief moment, he turned back to Locus, holding his hand out. He held a knife, hilt to Locus, and his gaze on Locus was hardened. “Take this. In case the door breaks and I get out and go for you.“

Locus shook his head. That blade could only be one thing: pure silver, crafted for only one purpose. “Felix - “

“Don’t argue this. Just stab me with it, okay?” He strode back to Locus and grabbed his wrist with his free hand. Felix’s fingers were tight on his skin, and he set the knife into Locus’s hand. “It won’t kill me, not unless you hit the heart.” He paused, glancing at his palm. When Locus followed his gaze, he saw the bright red skin there, the light burn he had gotten just from touching the knife’s blade. “It’ll hurt,” he said, “and I’ll leave you alone.” He lifted his head again to look Locus in the eye. “That’s what’s important. Hit me as many times as you have to, but make sure I don’t hurt you.”

He wasn’t sure if he could ever bring himself to put this blade into Felix, but he nodded anyway. Felix’s eyes narrowed; he didn’t really believe Locus, but there wasn’t time to argue. There was an unspoken hint to that last thing he had said, anyway - the only way Felix could hurt him tonight, the only reason he’d ever need this knife was to fend off bites. Scratches as well, he supposed, but mainly bites.

If he was bitten, he was lost to this as much as Felix was. And it was clear that Felix didn’t want that. “I understand,” he said.

Felix let him go again, reaching to pull his shirt over his head. He didn’t speak and Locus could only watch as his hands fell to his belt, swiftly undoing it and letting his pants fall. Heat was rising in his face and he looked away again. Even now, with something so serious, he couldn’t watch Felix undress. The only times he had seen Felix naked was when they’d had sex.

“I don’t want my clothes ruined.” Felix’s voice made Locus look back at him. He stood in front of the basement door now, one hand on the handle. He wore nothing, the tattoos over his skin bright. They were everywhere - his back, his arms, curling around one of his legs. He was looking at Locus’s over his shoulder, not even an ounce of shame in the way he held himself. “You’ve seen me naked, what’s the deal?”

Locus shrugged, not wanting to explain how ridiculous he felt now. His eyes lingered on Felix’s backside and he cursed quietly.

Felix laughed, quietly, briefly. “You’re so stupid,” he said. There was fondness in his voice though, and Locus held to that rather than the insult. In another second, he had pushed the door open, the darkness stretching on below him. “Stop looking so embarrassed. I’ve been in your ass and you can’t look at mine?”

He frowned then, giving Felix an angry look. “There’s really no need to put it that way,” he said stiffly.

Felix smiled, but it melted away quickly. He took a deep breath, looked into the basement, then back at Locus. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “Just remember that.”

Really, Locus would have liked some kind of explanation. There had to be some reason to say such a reassuring thing. But Felix simply disappeared into the dark, slamming the door behind him. He couldn’t hear the lock turning, but could picture it - Felix sliding a lock in place with practiced movements, likely without even pausing as he walked down the stairs.

In the stark silence of the living room, Locus stared at the closed basement door and wondered what it was like down there. If it was barren, devoid of anything, just a cold and dark room; maybe there were a few pieces of Felix’s life stowed away down there somewhere, out of reach of the beast that he unleashed. As he went to the couch, lifting Felix’s discarded phone from between the cushions, he thought of Felix down there, in the dark, waiting.

It must be torturous.

For a few minutes, Locus simply sat there, eyes darting around Felix’s living room. It was messy - he was pretty sure it would always be in a state of disarray - but at least this time it wasn’t all dirty clothes laid over the furniture. A few fast food containers that reminded him of the food still sitting, untouched, on Felix’s table; game cases and a controller sat in the center of the coffee table, the rest covered by unopened mail and what looked to be a large book. On closer inspection, Locus found that to be a game guide, one that Felix had added his own notes to, crossing out the original words. There were curses written in the margins of the page it was opened too - some boss battle, he thought.

None of that surprised him. It fit Felix rather well, actually. As did the TV mounted on the wall across from him, large and blank but hooked up to various consoles beneath it. On the other side of the wall was Felix’s bedroom, the only bathroom beside it. It really wasn’t a large apartment, and Locus had always thought that the basement had to be the selling point to make someone rent it.

Well… he wasn’t wrong, but the reason for the basement was much different than he had thought.

He was still sitting there when it started.

Screams, bursting from the basement. There was no rise of his voice, no build up - just a sudden, inhuman scream that shattered the quiet. After a few seconds, it broke off with a choked sound, only to start again moments later. Pain laced through the screams - Locus was hesitant to call it agony even though that was what he first thought.

Those screams chilled him, sent a shudder down his spine. The sound was becoming more and more inhuman, more animalistic. More and more like the roar of a monster. For a moment, Locus was rooted to his seat, wide eyes focused on the basement door, as fear raced through his veins.

The screaming had stopped and a howl had taken its place.

It took longer than Locus would have liked for him to remember that that noise belonged to Felix. To someone he liked, someone he cared for. That frightening sound was his boyfriend.

He became aware of how tightly wound his fingers were around the hilt of the knife, and when he forced himself to loosen his grip, his knuckles were white. He looked at the knife, at the intricate design carved in the blade. It was beautiful, really - but it was meant to kill. Locus listened to the growls sneaking beneath the basement door and set the blade down on the table, right beside Felix’s videogames.

Minutes passed before Locus stood, walking slowly to the door. Behind it, he could make out the sounds of the beast growling at nothing, quiet snuffling sounds as if Felix was sniffing along the ground. His heart was pounding, and he hated how it was fear.

He couldn’t be afraid of Felix.

He wouldn’t let himself be afraid.

Locus laid his hand on the basement door. It wasn’t wooden like he had first thought, but built of metal - steel, perhaps - and painted to resemble a deep red wood. For the briefest moment, there was nothing but his palm on the cool metal surface, but then it shook as something slammed into the other side. He snapped his hand back, taking a step from the door, and watched as it shook in its frame.

Right. Felix had told him to stay away from the door. It shook again as something - as Felix hit it again. Was he trying to break it down? Were the instincts of the werewolf so primal that just smelling a human would lead to this?

Another trickle of fear slid down Locus’s spine. On the other side of the door, Felix was snarling. The sound of an animal, a hungry wolf. Scratching began, and only the claws of something huge could make that much noise. Slowly, Locus backed away, listening to the snarls and the anger in each one. At one point, he could even hear jaws snapping shut. Eventually, it stopped and there was one final bang at the door, as if Felix had rammed into it out of anger.

Locus made his way back to the couch, sinking into it and gazing back at the basement door. There weren’t any noises he could hear, not anymore. But he pictured the monster down there, pacing, growling, waiting.

When he checked the time, not even an hour had passed.

He pulled his eyes from the door, settling on the knife on the table. An urge to pick it up again struck him. Just to hold it, have it on his body like some form of protection. He wouldn’t let himself. Holding that knife would mean being willing to harm Felix.

The sudden understanding of why someone would leave occurred to him then. Sitting there for an entire night would be tough - but, then, to have promised to stay and leave anyway was despicable. Locus sighed, leaning back into the couch, eyes on the ceiling. A part of him ached to leave now, and that was shameful.

As he settled in to stay, the werewolf unleashed an unearthly howl. He tried his hardest to ignore it, fighting the fright at hearing it.

The simple fact was that this night would be long. As late as it was in the year, sunset had been earlier, and dawn wouldn't be until nearly six in the morning. Rather than spend that time growing afraid of his own boyfriend, Locus started to look for ways to distract himself, to whittle the hours away. He tried television at first, but that was difficult to focus on even before Felix howled again. When that failed, Locus went into Felix’s bedroom, sitting at the desk where his laptop sat. It was still on; that was helpful, since Locus had no idea what the password would be.

Unfortunately, Locus’s first instinct was to search more on werewolves. And then he stayed on that track, reading more and more accounts of werewolf transformations and information on how it worked. In Felix’s room, the constant howling wasn’t as loud.

It was no surprise to Locus that he looked up why exactly werewolves would howl so frequently. Apparently, the leading theory was that a lone werewolf howled for others to find them. Locus actually emailed the author of that theory, asking if that meant a lone wolf was actually lonely. He even used that exact phrase - lone wolf, Felix’s stupid joke that hadn’t been amusing then but was in this moment.

He was surprised to see that he had managed to waste two hours on the internet, doing nothing but reading about werewolves. At least he remembered to clear the history of the past few hours before he left.

This was working. Finding distractions from an instinctual fear of a monster would insure that he stayed the night. A shame Felix didn’t have many books, though. Locus picked up a horror novel with a frown, sitting back down on the couch with it. He had a drink now, a snack with it, and had put the food he’d left on the table into the fridge. He was sure he’d spend the time it took to read this book judging the characters, and probably the author as well.

Falling asleep hadn’t been planned, but when another howl stretched into the night, Locus’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. The last edges of his dreams melted away, the disorientation of the sudden way he was awoken fading. He sighed, rubbed at his eyes, and stretched.

Felix was howling again. It almost sounded sad.

Locus checked the time again; it was close to three in the morning. He was tired now. Sleeping for those few hours had only made him want to sleep more, but Felix was going to make that impossible. Coffee, then. He knew Felix kept a lot of it around. In the kitchen, he looked through Felix’s food, wondering what he should have for breakfast. It was a few hours away, sure, but his stomach was growling already.

Downstairs, Felix’s howling had stopped again. He would absolutely need some food, Locus thought. He’d make them both a good breakfast.

He passed the next couple of hours reading Felix’s horror book. It was mediocre at best. The characters were more fleshed out than he had expected but the plot itself fell short. Another horror trope somehow filling four hundred pages. When he put it down to start cooking, he didn’t think about finishing it. It was just past five in the morning when he started - and perhaps he made too much. Eggs, the last few slices of bacon in Felix’s fridge. He made biscuits, sausages, and then combined those with cheese and helped himself to one - and then another.

He was biting into a third one when he heard the basement door opening, footsteps, and then the solid thump of it shutting again. For a moment after that, nothing. Locus set the food down, walking out of the kitchen to look for Felix. He was standing at the edge of the living room, still naked, frowning at nothing.

Instantly, Felix looked his way. His eyes widened slightly and he sighed. “Oh. Hey.”

“Are you alright?” It felt like a stupid question. All that noise Felix had made during the night… Surely it wasn’t easy having to live through it so often.

A tired smile grew on Felix’s face and he nodded. “Yeah. Just… I dunno, thought you had left.” He raised a hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. There was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Stupid, really. I can smell food.”

Locus smiled back at him. “Figured you’d be hungry,” he said quietly. He was trying very, very hard, not to look at Felix’s naked body. “Do you want to put something on and join me?”

Felix shook his head. “Not really. But if you’re still bothered by my nudity…” He made a dramatic show out of reaching down to pick up his discarded boxers, slipping them back on before heading Locus’s way. “Hope this is good enough cause I’m not putting on anything else.”

He watched Felix walk past him and into the kitchen, noting just how tired the other man looked. Every line of Felix’s face looked weighted, his shoulders slumped, and he basically collapsed into a chair. Locus didn’t mind make him a plate, or giving more bacon to Felix when he asked. He sat across from Felix as they ate, wondering what he should say - because he had to say something, didn’t he?

In the end, he couldn’t think of anything and was glad that the air between them wasn’t awkward.

Felix spoke first, talking before he stuffed another biscuit into his mouth. “How’d you like it?”

Locus frowned. “I didn’t.”

The response was spoken around the bite of food, and Locus’s frown deepened. “Well, that’s rude.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he said. “That’s disgusting.”

Felix only gave him a blank look as he swallowed. “You didn’t have to stay,” he said. “I told you that you shouldn’t have come, but you wanted to, so -”

“I didn’t like it because you screamed,” Locus interrupted. “You screamed, and then you spent half the night howling.”

“Oh, the howling,” Felix said with a sigh. “Yeah, that. Turns out calling myself a howling asshole is not just a joke. Sorry for not warning you.”

“It’s… it’s fine.” For some reason, he had been wanting Felix to explain those screams at the beginning of the night. He watched as Felix rubbed at his face, yawning again. His teeth were still sharp and Locus wondered how long that’d last.

Then, Felis pushed himself up with his hands flat on the table. His plate was emptied now, and he said, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to sleep.” He started to walk away and Locus reached forward, grasping his wrist and making Felix turn back to him. “What? I just wanna sleep.”

Locus said, “I’ll join you. You ruined my sleep earlier.”

Felix tilted his head, watching as Locus stood. “What?”

“The howling.”

Felix sighed, looking at him as Locus took his hand instead, squeezing lightly. “Don’t you have to work?”

“It’s Saturday. I don’t work on the weekends.”

With no reason to argue, Felix pulled Locus with him to the bedroom. He pulled his boxers off again before slipping underneath the blankets, but Locus wasn’t as bothered by it here. His nudity was covered, for one thing; any other time Felix had been naked was in here, anyway. Locus pulled his pants off, then his shirt, and went to join Felix in only his underwear. After a few seconds, he ran a hand through Felix’s hair and listened to the pleased keening sound he made.

Soon, Felix had edged closer, wrapping an arm around Locus’s middle and resting his head against Locus’s shoulder, at the base of his neck. He said, “Thanks for staying,” and Locus hummed a low response. He was more tired than he had thought, and being so close to Felix in such a warm place was lulling him to sleep.

His eyes were closed when he said, “I promised to be here.”

Felix’s answer was quiet, and he almost missed it: “Means a lot, y’know. Most people get too afraid.”

Locus sighed, running his fingers across Felix’s scalp. “Later,” he said. “Go to sleep. Rest.” He fell asleep to the feeling of Felix’s breath on his skin, the quiet sound of his breathing, and wondered just how he could ever be afraid of this man.


	2. don't let your heart grow cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been extended to 3 chapters cause i have no self-control.
> 
> rating bumped up too, though the explicit stuff comes with the next update. gets sexual at points here though.

Spending time with Felix became easier with every day that passed. That overhanging cloud of Locus’s obsession faded. He no longer spent most of his free time wondering about Felix, about werewolves, or any combination of the two. Part of it was simply that he had stayed that night. There was also the fact that the email he had sent actually got a response, one that opened up a correspondence with a man who had an answer to any question Locus had.

The very first reply came two days after Locus had sent the email. According to the author, David Washington, a werewolf without a family will actually howl out of loneliness, out of the want for the family that’s missing. There was emphasis on how, despite how the werewolf in question may argue against it, it was likely still true.

So, Felix was lonely.

Locus wanted to say it was hard to believe. That Felix, living alone, never busy with other people, was happy being on his own. He did believe that Felix didn’t care for the presence of other werewolves, but surely if he was lonely, he could find company in other people? When he expressed this concern to Washington in a reply, he didn’t receive an answer for nearly a week. He spent that time with Felix, relishing in the other man’s company, in the bright grins full of sharp teeth and the burning touches that lingered on his skin.

Locus spent Saturday night at Felix’s again, after sex that had left him trembling under Felix’s touch. In the morning, Felix lay curled against him, nose nuzzled into Locus’s neck. He snored softly, each breath warm against Locus’s skin. With the early morning light drifting through closed curtains, Locus wrapped an arm around Felix, reaching for his phone with the other.

The reply to his last email had come overnight and he read it while running his fingers lightly over Felix’s back.

It started with an apology, with Washington explaining that he had been busy giving seminars. Locus made a mental note to look up these ‘seminars’ and see exactly who he was contacting.

After that, Locus found himself reading a very detailed explanation of the stigmatism surrounding lycanthropy. He already knew part of it, of the hatred and suspicion that the majority seemed to hold tight to. He knew the old legends and stories were hard to ignore for most, that when people heard of a werewolf, they pictured a hulking beast hungry for flesh. That image was used to demonize werewolves, and Washington’s email read: “It’s a tool for the fear-mongering bigots of the world. They will use this old, stereotypical idea of a werewolf and plaster it over the news, the media, anywhere they get it.”

Washington said that relating to other people was difficult for werewolves. That it wasn’t just this fear, the hatred. “There are people,” the email went on, “who will claim to support lycanthropes. These same people will turn on any werewolf they see as too dangerous or too wild or too unpredictable. Those who claim to be a friend are not always what they seem. It’s not surprising when walls are built to shield against this type of hypocrisy.”

Locus paused here to cast a look down at Felix. These walls Washington spoke of, could they be found in Felix’s flippant nature and dismissive attitude? It would make sense. He shifted where he lay, jostling Felix and causing a quiet growl to rise out of the sleeping man’s throat. His attention went back to his phone as one of Felix’s arms slipped around his middle, fingers calloused and warm against him.

Loneliness in werewolves, Washington said, is typically a result of failures to connect with others. He suggested that perhaps a werewolf was a loner as a human, or “someone who didn’t care to form strong bonds.”

Which was Felix then?

Probably the second.

The email continued, and Locus read even as he felt Felix’s lips press against his collarbone. “If someone with this type of personality is subjected to the life of a werewolf, the social aspect can be a bit of a cultural shock.” There was an adjustment in all werewolves, according to Washington, where they found themselves with this new affliction, a condition that doctors would judge them for, that people would hate them for. “It must be hard to leave your house one day and be faced with someone you’ve never met, telling you that you’re a monster and you should be killed. That everyone like you should be culled from the planet.”

Washington said, “It’s not too far of a stretch to assume that anyone could become lonely under such hate-filled speeches.”

This sort of thing must be more common than Locus ever thought. His arm tightened around Felix reflexively and the other squirmed in response. Lips at his throat, light, quickly replaced with teeth grazing over his skin.

The final answer that Washington gave, what tied together all that the email consisted of, was that every werewolf needed social contact just like every human. It was a base need, and the hatred they faced only made it stronger. At the end of the email, added almost as an afterthought, Washington had asked how Locus had found him, and why he was so interested in werewolves.

Before he could answer, Felix was talking, voice soft. “What’re you doing?”

“Reading an email.”

“Boring.” The phone was plucked from his hand and Felix pushed himself up just to lean over and drop it. It hit the ground with a quiet thud and Locus frowned. But Felix was smiling, this tired self-satisfied look that had his dark eyes shining.

Locus rolled, pinning Felix beneath him, peppering kisses across his cheeks as Felix laughed - quiet, breathy laughter. When Locus kissed him, Felix keened, a sigh muffled between them. Hands gripped his naked hips and pulled him closer, and Locus found himself sliding down between Felix’s legs. He forgot about the email, about David Washington and his strange knowledge of werewolves. He forgot about all but the taste of Felix on his tongue and the beautiful sounds that rose as Felix came in his mouth.

He ran his hands over Felix’s sides as he sat up again, feeling the shaking muscles beneath his hands. Locus sighed, leaning forward to kiss Felix again. His heart soared as he did, as Felix drew him back for another chaste kiss.

Surely there was nothing as important in the world than this.

✶✶✶

The email Locus sent to Washington was short: “My boyfriend is a werewolf. I’m trying to understand.”

Washington’s reply was much the same. “We’re in the same boat then. It can be tough. Good luck.” Then, simply an invitation to send questions whenever Locus needed.

✶✶✶

Days passed slowly, and as the full moon grew closer once more, Locus found himself in bed with Felix - an act that was becoming more frequent the longer they were together. The more relaxed Felix grew with the trust that bloomed between them, the more he expressed himself through physical desires. For his own part, Locus had no trouble with succumbing to Felix’s hungry, forceful kisses.

Today, Felix pinned him down on his back, climbed on top of him, and kissed him so fiercely that Locus felt the fire in his blood. Warm wandering hands held him down as Felix eased into him; Felix’s mouth was on his neck, hot against his skin. Felix kissed, he licked, and breathless laughter tickled Locus’s skin. When Felix moved, slow rolls of his hips, Locus grasped his neck to pull him in for another kiss.

Then, with Felix inside him, each of them lost to the sensations, Locus felt a mouth on his neck again. Teeth, grazing against the veins. A whine, sharp in his ears, low and full of desire - and then those sharp teeth digging into his skin, pulling.

The bite was short, barely painful.

Locus gasped, surprised more than anything. The sound must have shaken Felix out of a lust-filled daze, and he snapped his head up with a low curse. Slowly, he pushed away from Locus, hands sliding from Locus’s hips to the bed below them. His eyes widened, fixated on where he had just bitten. “Shit,” he whispered. “Locus, I - I didn’t mean to.”

Locus slid a hand up over his neck, over the stinging bite mark.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved, breathing heavy from the interrupted sex. Felix was still seated inside him, Locus’s legs still draped over Felix’s thighs.

Felix’s eyes had a touch of fear in them, and Locus sighed. “It’s alright,” he said. It didn’t seem to have an effect, and he added, “The skin isn’t broken. No bleeding.”

“Does that matter?”

“You don’t know?”

The fear in his eyes wasn’t fading, but Felix still managed to look at him incredulously. “It’s not like I go around biting people. I’ve never actually done that, alright? Not since… y’know…”

Not since he had been bitten himself.

Locus took a deep breath, to try and force his breathing to be regular again. He pushed up on his elbows, leaning toward Felix even as the other man leaned farther back. “For starters, it isn’t the full moon,” he said. “Your bites have very little effect when you aren’t transformed. If it had broken the skin, there would have been small changes for me, but nothing drastic. Nothing like - well, like lycanthropy.”

As the fear left him, Felix’s expression was guarded, eyes boring into Locus’s soul. “How can you be sure? What if I just fucked up your whole life?”

“You haven’t.” He knew it to be true. It would be true no matter what happened. But Felix didn’t seem to be so sure, and Locus could see the ease of their day together disappearing fast. He reached for Felix again with one hand, the other slipping back to keep him up, keep himself still. His hips were pressed tight to Felix and he wasn’t going to move just yet. “I’m fine,” he said, placing his hand on Felix’s face, watching as Felix turned just slightly into his palm.

Quietly, Felix said, “You’re safe?”

“I’m safe.”

“And you’re sure about all that? That I didn’t hurt you?”

Locus smiled, used his grip to force Felix close enough to give him a chaste kiss. “I’m sure.” As he spoke, Felix was easing forward, closing the gap between them.

“If you’re wrong,” Felix started.

“I’m not.”

“But if you are - “ He stopped, frowning. One hand lifted from the bed, pushing at Locus’s chest until he laid back on the bed. Felix looked down on him, brow furrowed. He pushed his hips forward and Locus hissed at the pressure. “If you’re wrong,” he said again, eyes flicking to the mark on Locus’s neck, “don’t you fucking lie to me about it. Tell me it was me, that I did it to you.”

“Felix...”

“Never lie to me.”

It was a hefty demand, one Locus didn’t think only applied to the topic at hand. He wasn’t sure he could promise such a thing, but he still agreed. Just to see the smallest bit of tension ease from Felix’s form. Anything to coax him to relax, to continue what they had started.

He knew he was right, afterall.

The latest reply from Washington had outlined how the werewolf venom works. The full effects transferred during the full moon, and was quickest after dark when the bite came from a transformed beast. During the day of a full moon, lycanthrope bites were only dangerous if the skin was broken, if the victim bled.

Outside of the full moon, there were barely any problems. Someone bitten, someone who bled, may develop things like a taste for raw meat, or the sharpened teeth. Perhaps they would suddenly have a sensitivity to light in their eyes. Minor problems that, all things considered, wouldn’t be a problem at all.

In his case, Locus wouldn’t have cared either way. So long as he stayed with Felix.

✶✶✶

There were certain animalistic qualities to Felix that Locus was very quickly noticing. After the incident with the biting, he saw them more frequently. Maybe he just noticed now, picked up on these things he had paid no attention to before.

The whining, for instance, he had heard in the past. Now he could see the similarities between an animal. Those quiet, low whines Felix made when he was excited or anxious, typically pushed out from gritted teeth. On more than one occasion, Felix would be in his lap, face buried into his neck or his chest, and Locus would wrap his arms around the other man - and then he’d hear it. Quiet, muffled, but a whine.

It was cute.

He made the mistake of saying so once, after Felix had whined into his neck. Felix sat up straight, and looked at Locus in mild confusion. He even cocked his head to one side, and Locus couldn’t suppress the quiet laughter. It only made Felix frown. “What? What the hell is your problem?’

“Haven’t you heard yourself whine?” Locus asked. “It’s cute.”

A blush sprung to his cheeks instantly. “I’m not cute.”

“You’re the cutest werewolf I’ve ever seen,” Locus insisted. The redness in Felix’s face grew and Locus wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him there. “What with the whining, and the little tilts of your head - “

“No, stop!”

“ - but only when you’re confused. Were you aware of that?”

Felix responded with a groan, and then planting his face into Locus’s chest. “It’s so embarrassing,” he said. Complaining now. “I can’t fucking stop it, it just happens.”

Locus ran a hand through Felix’s hair. He was still smiling, managing to hold back the urge to laugh. “How long have you known it happens?”

Felix shifted in his lap, and when he spoke his voice wasn’t as muffled. “Three days after I recovered from the bite, my parents made me this fantastic meal of rare meats and it was the greatest thing I’d eaten since I was changed. And I… I fucking whined. At the dinner table. Over food.”

That time, Locus couldn’t stop himself. He laughed, and Felix smacked his chest, sitting up again. He took one look at the anger on Felix’s face and how it mingled with the blush, and only laughed more.

“Oh, fuck you!” Felix shoved him back with both hands, leaving Locus’s lap to shuffle to the other side of the couch. “I’ve whined during sex! You know how fuckin’ embarrassing that is?”

“Have you?” Locus said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Felix only glared at him. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

Locus opted to not mention the nuzzling Felix liked to do against his neck. Or how Felix would press against him and breath deep before sighing, a heavy exhale of breath that had always reminded Locus of a powerful animal lying down to rest.

Faced with his silence, Felix said, “It’s mortifying, okay?”

“I believe you.”

Felix rolled his eyes, tossing out another insult. “You laughed. You can never bring it up again.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so cute.”

“I hate you.”

The irritation lacing Felix’s voice may be real in that moment, but his words were far from truthful. Locus let it pass without argument. He was learning that this type of behavior, the insults and the ‘hatred’, all of it was just Felix’s way of stepping around affection. It could be annoying at times, but Locus accepted it as part of Felix.

And if Felix wanted to display what he felt for Locus through means of sex, of insults, then that was fine. There were other ways to show affection. Such as a newfound quirk of Felix’s that began a couple days later. He had started to bite lightly - nipping bites along any piece of Locus’s exposed flesh he could get between his teeth for a second. The first time he did it, he woke Locus from a dream and the smirk he wore was only just visible.

In the dark, Locus said, “Don’t bite me.”

“Hmm? You said it wasn’t a problem.” He sounded smug beyond belief, so Locus raised a hand and planted his palm on Felix’s forehead, shoving the fool away from him. He couldn’t be angry, though, not when Felix was laughing to himself.

✶✶✶

The evening before the full moon, Felix showed Locus outside and made him promise not to come over tomorrow. “You don’t have to be here every month,” Felix said. He leaned against the door frame, eyes locked on Locus. The cool night air swam between them. “Besides, tomorrow’s a work day for you. Go make money.”

Locus said, “I could take the day off.”

“Don’t. I’ll be fine.” He was smiling when he said that, warm and comforting, like he could read Locus’s mind. As if he knew how badly Locus wanted to be there in the morning.

“Can I see you for lunch?”

“As long as I don’t have to meet you at noon.”

A common complaint of Felix’s, one that Locus was never willing to argue. He agreed to meet Felix at one-thirty, as late as he could push his lunch hour without annoying his boss. Before he left, Felix kissed him, hand gripping his shirt tightly.

At lunch the next day, Felix ate a very large, very rare steak. He didn’t stop moving once throughout, always some part of him in motion. When they finished eating, Locus headed to his car and Felix followed him despite his own car sitting not four spaces away. He kissed Locus again then, full of desperate energy and tasting of meat.

“i wish you could come home with me,” Felix said, his voice low. He was close enough that Locus could feel his breath. He licked his lips and Locus caught the incisors - the fangs, glinting. “I want you so bad,” Felix continued.

Locus spoke before he could stop himself: “You do understand we’re in public, don’t you?” All that happened was Felix kissing him again - a hungry, fiery kiss. Felix whined against his mouth and Locus immediately wished to leave with him. That sound was full of desire and need, and Locus was sure he could skip the last half of work, or at the very least be late.

When he pulled back, Felix said, “I’m always so horny on these days. And I can’t have anyone over, but god, I want to.” His fingers trailed down Locus’s chest as he spoke before hooking into the edge of his pants. “I want you inside me,” he said.

Locus swallowed, throwing a look back at the restaurant. His heart was racing, cock growing harder the longer he stood here with Felix so close, saying such things. “I’m completely willing to stop by after work,” he said carefully.

Felix sighed. “Too close to sunset.”

A family was leaving the restaurant - a mother, father, young child. Locus wrenched his eyes back to Felix, saying, “Some other time, then.”

“Disappointing,” Felix muttered. He stepped back from Locus then, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He watched as Locus opened the car door before saying, “See you later.”

From where he sat, Locus could just manage to see Felix disappear into his own car. He drove back to work slowly, willing the heat in his body to fade, for the hardness in his pants to lessen. Working as an accountant wasn’t an extravagant job, but it was something he needed to be focused on and Felix working him up so quickly was having the opposite effect. At work, Locus distracted himself for a little over half an hour before he texted Felix.

He sent, _“Your offer better stand tomorrow.”_

Felix responded fairly quickly, but all it said was, _“Thinking of you too.”_ A picture followed and Locus frowned at it, wishing his phone did not automatically open photos for him. Felix had sent one of himself masturbating, and as another one loaded, Locus shut his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He spent the remainder of his work day trying and failing to forget about Felix and any pictures waiting for him.

At home, in the quiet of his apartment, Locus finally opened his phone again. There were three pictures now, all of Felix with a hand around his cock, and after those, one very explicit and detailed message. It basically boiled down to Locus having to go over tomorrow, to give Felix whatever he asked for. It was almost a pity that Locus couldn’t see to that tonight. If he used those pictures and that message to avoid thinking about why he could not be with Felix now, there wasn’t any harm to it.

Felix could handle himself, they both understood that.

Locus sent him a reply before he went to bed and mentioned nothing about how he wished he could have been there tonight. Bringing it up again would get them nowhere, and he would much rather let Felix know when he’d be there tomorrow night.

The next day, Locus brought food with him when he arrived - late, almost seven. Even this late in the evening, Felix held a cup of coffee. While eating, he said, “You know you don’t actually have to fuck me. Scheduling sex is weird.”

“Yet you seemed so eager for it,” Locus mused.

“Shut up.” Felix wore loose clothing, and he still looked tired from the transformation the night before. When he smiled, though, it was bright and he was beautiful.

They sat on his couch, Felix at the far end, his feet propped in Locus’s lap. “Is this something I should expect?” Locus asked, running his fingers over Felix’s leg. “All these offers of sex and explicit photographs and fantasies that you’ll never follow through on.”

Felix laughed quietly. “Maybe.” A pause. “First time I’ve done that in a while, actually. It’s kinda fun.”

“What is?”

“Sending you nudes.” He grinned when Locus frowned, nudged him with one foot. “Knowing you’re sitting at work and can’t do anything about it.”

Locus didn’t answer beyond rolling his eyes and shoving Felix’s feet off his lap. At his end of the couch, Felix was snickering around his food, promising to send Locus more photos during the day, let him know that he was in Felix’s thoughts.

They spent the remainder of the evening together and Locus left with Felix saying he had Saturday off. Only a couple more days, he said, and then Locus could spend the night again. On the day in question, Felix ended up at Locus’s apartment instead, dressed in clothes that Locus had never seen before - rich, dark hues that melted together and made him seem otherworldly. He said, “It’s a special occasion,” when asked why he had gone to such lengths to look so nice.

He was straddling Locus at the waist, knees tight against Locus’s sides, pressing him down into the sofa with one hand. “What’s special about it?” Locus asked, hands resting on Felix’s thighs.

Felix smiled, coy and sharp. His fingers trailed over Locus’s chest and up to his jaw. “Nothing in particular,” he said. “But who says I can’t make a night special if I want to?” He leaned down, kissing Locus with teeth and tongue and that ever-present fire. He rode Locus there in the living room, breathing out soft curses, digging his nails into Locus’s skin. All he wore of his striking outfit was the jacket, and Locus spread his hands against Felix’s back underneath it, marveling at the sight of Felix in his lap.

His laptop sat open on the coffee table, an email half-composed. It was about werewolves and the energy they gained as the full moon drew closer, about how the energy was expressed, if it varied with each werewolf. It was forgotten, along with work that needed to be completed. Locus abandoned everything for the night in the wake of Felix. With someone so wonderful, it was easy to lose himself, to give himself up for Felix’s pleasure.

He wanted to learn, to memorize, every bit of Felix from his body to his mannerisms to the monster he claimed to be. Felix burned like wildfire: bright and furious and all-consuming. He was fire in every way, and Locus was going to burn himself to understand.

✶✶✶

“I’m a predator,” he said. “That’s why animals don’t like me.”

They were at a park - an afternoon walk on a Saturday that Felix had off work. A pleasant, calm activity that Locus could haved enjoyed without Felix hinting about exploring a cemetery once dark fell. The trees around them were glowing with oranges and yellows as the autumn months dragged on, grass dying beneath their feet. And, currently, a dog belonging to a family nearby had stopped chasing its young owner, standing still and growling in Felix’s direction instead. The child, a young girl with her hair tied up in a braid, called the dog repeatedly, shaking the ball in her hands as if that would gain the animals’ attention.

Locus hadn’t asked about the dog, or why it growled. Judging by Felix’s tone of voice, this was something he found amusing. Maybe he had just wanted to say it. “A predator,” Locus repeated quietly. He looked to Felix to watch him shrug, hands in his jacket pockets.

“It used to annoy me,” Felix said. He wore shades out even though it was overcast, clouds hiding the bright light. “Now, it’s just kind of funny. I mean, look at this one dog. It’s losing its shit. If I walked into a petstore, the whole fucking place would go ballistic.”

Locus made a mental note to ask Washington about this, for a more well-explained reasoning beyond ‘a predator’. He looked from Felix to the growling dog and said, “How did you figure this out?”

Felix’s response came a few seconds later, a pause just long enough to make Locus look back at him. “Had a dog when I was bitten,” he said, bitterness layering his words. “It started freaking out anytime I was close. Only thing I could figure was the werewolf status didn’t sit well with the mutt.”

There was surely more to the story, but it wasn’t the time or the place to ask for details. The little girl was running forward to her dog, grasping the collar and tugging. “Stop that!” she said. “Stop being mean!” Her voice attracted the attention of her parents instantly; the mother was rushing over and Locus exchanged a quick look with Felix. He rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He looked as if he was going to walk away but then the mother was there, hurriedly apologizing for her dog. She paused to chide her daughter - “Don’t pull on his collar. It hurts him.” - and then turned right back to Felix and Locus.

“It’s fine,” Felix said, interrupting her next apology.

The woman said, “He’s never like this with people,” and on the heels of that, the little girl squinted at Felix.

“Are you a dog?” the girl asked.

The effect was near-instantaneous. Locus stiffened, looking from the girl to her mother - the mother, he thought, looked suitably horrified. Beside him, Felix scoffed, and when Locus looked at him, he had his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. “That young, huh?” he said, a casual lilt to his words. It barely masked the anger underneath it. “Lady, what are you teachin’ your kid that she’s slinging slurs around?”

It was the first time Locus had heard someone use such language in Felix’s direction, but the reaction was not surprising. The tension in Felix’s face, his shoulders.

The woman was fretting about how she never endorsed this sort of language. “I don’t know where she picked it up from,” she said. Her attention was fully on Felix now; the dog at her side graduated to barking.

“Jenny says her neighbor is a dog,” the little girl offered. She stumbled over the word ‘neighbor’ with a frown. Her mother tried to shush her, but child kept speaking, neck craned to frown at Felix.

The stigma of hatred surrounding werewolves was filled with these sorts of derogatory comments, Locus knew that. That werewolves, despite how they may act or behave, were faced with hatred in the form of being called dogs or, if one was feeling particularly nasty, mutts. Halfbreed was another, used much in the past but rarely now. It was a horrible thing to call someone, and yet unsurprising to come from a child.

The mother was still apologizing while trying to quiet the dog and her child. One look at Felix made it clear he wasn’t going to accept it. He hardly looked as if he heard the woman. It was obvious even with the shades that he was glaring at her, but then he abruptly turned and walked away at a brisk pace. The woman uttered one more quiet apology, but Locus barely heard it. He had turned to follow Felix almost instantly, barely two steps behind him.

Felix didn’t speak, so neither did Locus. He only followed, frowning, waiting for Felix to say something first, to likely brush off what had just happened. Felix led him off the main path, out of the open area and into the woods closeby. Once the trees shrouded the main path, the sky above them, Felix stopped and looked back at him.

He said, “I don’t like being called a dog.”

“No one would.” It was a completely understandable reaction. Locus forced his frown to ease back, if only to appear as a comfort to Felix - a calm in the face of his anger.

Felix let out an irritated huff of air. “You don’t get it.” There was frustration there, and Locus was sure it was because Locus wouldn’t understand the enormity of the slurs unless he too was faced with lycanthropy.

After a moment of silence, Felix yanked the shades off and stared at Locus with a bitter anger in his dark eyes. “When I turned,” he said, voice dropping, “the girl I was dating left me. Said she couldn’t be with me anymore.” He looked away, at the ground, as a light flush crept up his neck. “Couldn’t be with a dog.”

Locus felt his chest clench. There was so much about Felix he didn’t know and the more he found out, the more obvious it was that the condition Felix had quite literally shaped his entire life. But this - this was serious, something that had impacted Felix to the point that it still hurt now, however many years later.

“She likened sleeping with me to beastality,” Felix continued. The flush on his neck was creeping over his face, and Locus wouldn’t figure out why he would be embarrassed. Nervous or anxious, yes. But embarrassed? “You don’t understand how goddamn shitty that is. I had someone I cared about, someone I was close to, and she took off because this happened to me. I mean, I get it - werewolves are scary, no one likes them, whatever.”

He was starting to rant, one of those tangents he sometimes fell into. Usually, it was when he was fiery with excitement or bubbling with anger, but this one was different. This was personal, and Locus couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else would hear him.

Locus took a step toward Felix, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to say this,” he said. “Not out here. We can go home, Felix, and you can relax there.”

Either one of their apartment was better suited for this type of conversation than out here.

But his words seemed to slide right past Felix. He shook his head, eyes focused past Locus, out into the trees. “Did I ever tell you when I was bit?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “I was seventeen, just graduated high school. Some friends and I went on a camping trip on the full moon ‘cause we were dumb, but that’s what teenagers do, right? The stupidest shit imaginable.”

As he spoke, he pulled away from Locus’s side, pacing, gesturing as he spoke. “We went out there and joked about werewolves, about finding one, and then in the middle of the night - well. We fuckin’ found one. And they all fled, I got bitten, and here I am now.

“I had friends,” he said, spitting the last word out. “I had a girlfriend, and a dog, and parents who loved me. I don’t have shit now, but that stupid shitty apartment and a job I hate, and all anyone can do is look at me and tell me that I deserve it because I’m a fucking dog.” His voice was still low, on the edge of calm, but Locus could see his shoulders tensing even further, the shake in his hands. Felix glanced back at him, and in that moment, Locus saw more vulnerability in Felix that he ever had.

Every fiber of his being ached for Felix and everything he had been through.

“I’m a fuckin’ predator,” Felix said, and his voice shook. “Some lady bit me when I was seven-fuckin’-teen, and now I’m a predator.”

Locus was before him in an instant, hands on his shoulders. Under his hands, Felix was shaking. “It’s alright,” Locus said. It didn’t seem like enough but he had no idea what else to say.

“People hate me, call me a monster, and I haven’t even done anything.”

Locus slid his hands over Felix’s shoulders, down his back and around his waist, tugging him close. He felt Felix lean into him, felt hands clenching at his shirt. “Those people,” he said, “are bigoted sheep.”

“I’m a monster,” Felix muttered, voice muffled into Locus’s chest. “Even a fucking kid knows it.”

Instantly, Locus pulled him in tighter, squeezing the smaller man as tightly as he could. He ignored the quiet grunt Felix made. What could he say here? Certainly not what he wanted. To tell Felix what he was thinking would mean making the other uncomfortable, making this situation worse than it was currently. He eased his grip on Felix, smoothing a hand down his back.

He thought about the horror of being attacked as a teenager, of being bitten and having his life transformed in an instant, and couldn’t grasp how terrifying it must have been. Felix was still shaking - trembling, nearly, though if it was anger or sadness, Locus wasn’t sure.

He said, “Do you want to go home?” Instead of assuring Felix that he wasn’t alone. That Locus would never be so heartless and cruel, not with him. It had been Felix’s idea to go out today anyway; he saw no reason not to let Felix dictate when they returned.

Felix nodded against his chest, then withdrew. After a moment, he slid his shades back over his eyes. Once again, he took the lead, taking slow steps out of the trees and back into the main path. The woman and her child were gone, no trace of them or the dog. Felix relaxed just a bit at that, and Locus slid an arm around his waist as they walked. He knew that there would likely be no followup to this, no mention of what happened. If Felix ever brought up what he had said, it would be casual, as if this had been a normal conversation.

Locus found he didn’t want that - he wanted to know all of it, wanted to let Felix know that it was alright if these things upset him. That Locus was there to listen, to comfort him.

When they were seated in his car, Felix leaning the passenger seat as far back as he could get it, Locus asked, “What happened to bring that up?”

Felix groaned, and Locus glanced over to see him drape an arm over his eyes. “Shit sucks,” he murmured. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It couldn’t have just been the child,” Locus said. He turned the heat on as he spoke, looking at the colorful trees and vaguely wondering when the leaves would fall. He tried to ignore the pace of his heart speeding up, how nervous he was at the possibility of upsetting Felix again.

After a moment, where Locus pulled out of the park’s lot, Felix spoke again. “You remember those guys I know? The other werewolves?”

Locus made a quiet affirming noise.

“One of them showed up earlier. Gave me some flier about a guy that’s coming here soon.” He sat up again as he spoke, sighing. “It’s an anti-werewolf rally, basically. These assholes want me to go with them to protest, but I never want to be at these sorts of things.”

Once Locus would have said that was because Felix just didn’t care enough. “You don’t have to go.”

“I’m not.” Another pause. He said, so quietly that it was almost lost, “I don’t want, like, ten thousand strangers calling me a dog. A mutt.”

Locus said nothing. He let go of the steering wheel with one hand, taking hold of Felix’s hand instead. Their fingers intertwined smoothly, and Felix squeezed so hard his nails dug into Locus’s skin. He said nothing else, other than telling Locus he wanted a drink. As he drove, Locus felt Felix’s grip on his hand lessen, and then Felix was letting him go just to take Locus’s hand in both of his, tracing patterns over his palm with two fingers.

✶✶✶

That night, after Felix had drank a mix of vodka and redbull that was more vodka than energy drink, he asked Locus if he’d like to see where the bites were.

“You can’t tell,” he said, standing, “ ‘cause I got tattoos over ‘em.” First, he undid his pants, shucking them down and then kicking them off. Then he took Locus’s hand, placing it over the heart of the grotesque dragon that coiled around his thigh and down his shin.

Felix was right - there was no visible trace of a bite wound, any scars hidden beneath the colors of the creature he had inked onto his skin. But he held Locus’s hand down, said that was where the werewolf had sunk its fangs the first time. “There were scratches, too,” he said, letting go of Locus to trace idly down his thigh. “Lots of them.”

Locus could only say, “The first…?”

And then Felix was pulling his shirt over his head, a long-sleeved but light printed shirt that he dropped to the floor with his pants. He sat down again, eased close to Locus on the sofa, and raised his arm. The tattoo there was lighter than the one on his leg, a flurry of flowers and small birds that burst from his wrist and spread to his elbow. He pointed to the meat of his inner arm and said, “Right there. Nearly took a chunk out of me.”

Locus placed his hand where Felix pointed, sliding it over his arm and then tracing the area with his thumb. Again, no signs of injury. Nothing.

Felix ended up telling him the whole story. Of how he had gotten separated when he and his friends tried to leave their campsite, how they all got separated from one another but he was the only one to be caught. He said that he tripped, hit the ground, and moments later, felt claws plunging into his shin and more scratching down his thigh. Then the fangs in his thigh, sinking deep as he screamed.

The second bite was because when the werewolf let up, Felix had tried to flee. Even with his injured leg, he had stood and stumbled away, trying to run as he feared for his life. He had fallen, and twisted onto his back as the creature jumped him again. The bite on his arm, he said, was because he tried to fend it off in desperation and it had snatched him by the elbow.

Felix said he had felt the werewolf’s tongue against his flesh, was sure he was going to die.

“I don’t know what caught its attention,” he said with a shrug. He hand one hand laid on Locus’s thigh and frowned at it. “But it left me to go for something else. So, I mean… at least I survived.”

“I’m glad you did,” Locus mused. He raised Felix’s hand from his thigh to kiss the inside of his wrist, smirking when Felix made a face. As he released Felix’s hand, he asked, “You aren’t going to put your clothes on again, are you?”

Felix shook his head. “Gonna get myself another drink, though. Want one?”

“Not what you’re having.”

Felix brought him one anyway, assured him it was much less alcohol than was in his own, and then sidled up next to him, bare flesh against Locus’s clothes. Locus sighed, but gave it a taste anyway. Definitely not his drink of choice, but it’d do. Wasn’t like he had to drink all of it anyway. He sat there, an arm around Felix, and let the other choose something to watch on TV. Felix chose a movie about space, and Locus spent the first half hour with Felix snuggled against his side.

Once Felix finished his drink, he set the glass on the coffee table next to Locus’s own - still half full - and was nuzzling into Locus’s neck moments later. He breathed deeply, like Locus had come to expect, and then exhaled with a soft sigh rather than a whine. Locus curled his fingers into Felix’s hair, and Felix wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

There, holding Felix close to him, feeling the other man’s lips grazing his throat, Locus couldn’t stop himself.

He said, “I think I love you.”

Felix pulled away immediately, hands resting on Locus’s shoulders. His cheeks were dusted with pink, eyes wide, but all he did was laugh quietly. Locus held onto his jaw, running a finger over his face. When they kissed, Felix tasted of vodka and burned like fire.


End file.
